Chapter 1

“Chill, bro. I know she’ll come back to you. Oh, come on, a lot of girls like you. I’m sure she’ll be the one to come back and ask to be with you again.”

Rey Jhon patted Carlo’s shoulder, even though he wasn’t sure if what he said was true. Every time his hand touched his friend’s shoulder, it felt like a knife was being pushed deeper into his own chest. That knife searched for his wounded heart and pressed even   harder. He wished he could move that knife to the chest of the girl who made his friend cry.

That stupid girl!

“You don’t know Gabriella. Boys chase her too,” Carlo said, crying even harder like the salt was thrown on his wounds.

“I know her. She’s a playgirl.”

Carlo yelled and he realized he said the wrong thing. He scratched his head awkwardly. But it was true—Gabriella was a playgirl. Everyone knows that. He couldn’t understand why his friend even fell for her. If she wasn’t rich, no one would think she was pretty.

He didn’t know what to say to stop Carlo from crying. He didn’t know how to make his words sweet enough to calm him. He didn’t even know what heartbreak really felt like, so all he could do was pat his friend’s shoulder.

But a question stayed in his mind: did Carlo really love Gabriella this much that she was worth his tears?

He wanted to roll his eyes, but he stopped himself. What if Carlo saw it and the tiny hope he was holding on to will be vanish? He only had a little hope. Hope that one day he might see the love he was ready to give him. Yes, he had a crush on Carlo.

“That’s how girls play,” Rey Jhon said and patted his shoulder again. That’s why you should just be with me. I promise, I won’t hurt you.

“No, bro.” Carlo shook his head, still crying. “Gabriella’s different. She’s not like that.”

Different? She hurt you, idiot!

“Fine, she’s different.” Rey Jhon fixed his seat and lit a cigarette, but Carlo snatched it away. “But look at what she did to you. She hurt you, left you, and even emptied your GCash. Who’s the loser here?”

Carlo threw away the cigarette. Rey Jhon couldn’t help but smile, even though his friend was crying beside him. If only he knew Gabriella personally, he would’ve pulled her hair—or shaved her head. She had no right to hurt his friend.

“Damn it, Rey Jhon!” Carlo shouted, washing his face with his hands. “Can’t you show me a little support? Are you really my friend?”

He forced a laugh, though that knife in his chest dug deeper again. He wanted so badly to shout that he wasn’t just a friend.

It had been four years since he realized he was part of the LGBTQ—because of this crazy guy beside him. Ever since Carlo came into his life, the air felt different. Pink became his favorite color. He even wished he could change their school uniform to pink, if only he had a connection with the admin.

But he couldn’t come out. He had dreams he still wanted to reach. He was afraid Carlo might stay away if he knew the truth. From what he’d seen, Carlo didn’t really like gay people.

Could he really blame himself if his heart only beat for Carlo?

“Of course I’m your friend, idiot!” he said loudly, even though he wanted to use his soft voice—the one he used when flirting with guys over the phone at night.

He bit his lip and cleared his throat, hoping the knife would disappear. “But stop expecting things. Damn it, Carlo! That GCash money—did you forget? That was my salary! How will you pay it back?”

He worked as an erotic writer on an online platform. It was his side job when school wasn’t too busy. Since he didn’t have a valid ID, he used Carlo’s account. But the idiot spent the money on some girl.

He wanted to slap Carlo, but every time he saw his tears, his anger melted.

If I didn’t love you, I’d hate you so much right now.

“I’ll pay you back. I’ll ask money from Dad.”

“You better. My dad’s barbershop is not doing well, and I need to pay tuition next week.”

Carlo wiped his tears, patted Rey Jhon’s shoulder, then stood up.

“Anyway, come to my birthday tomorrow. It’s at my house.”

He just nodded and watched him walk away. Alone by the university pool, he sighed. When would he ever have the courage to tell Carlo how he really felt?

He was about to stand when he noticed a guy about to swim. The man wore only boxers, his six-pack abs shining under the light. He secretly took out his phone and opened the camera.

Looks like I’ve got dinner tonight.

“WANT to dance?”

A woman asked, holding a wine glass. Rey Jhon lifted his own glass, drank it all, and didn’t even look at her. Instead, he turned to talk to Carlo.

He was already at Carlo’s party. His friend had begged him until he dressed up and came. He wanted to complain that Carlo didn’t need a party—that they could’ve just gone to a motel and saved money.

The same woman tapped him again, now sitting beside him and even winking. Are you that desperate, girl? If only you were a guy, I’d ask Carlo’s permission already.

He straightened his tie and looked at her. People always said gays were flirty, but what about girls like her? What should he call them? Desperate? Too pushy?

“You okay?” she asked with a smile.

“Sorry, darling. I’m too tired to dance. Find someone else,” he said.

Go feed your hunger somewhere else, girl!

Before he could even look at Carlo, his friend suddenly laughed and leaned close to his ear. His chest filled with wild horses running. Carlo’s laugh was music to him. If only the DJ would turn off the music so he could just listen to Carlo’s voice.

“That’s why you don’t have a girlfriend—you won’t even dance,” Carlo teased, laughing again.

Was it his fault he didn’t want “bread”? Was it his fault his heart didn’t belong to girls because it only wanted men? Was it his fault he had a woman’s heart?

“Sorry, bro,” Rey Jhon forced a laugh. “This is just who I am.”

“Damn, you’re handsome though!”

Carlo suddenly went quiet. He looked at him, waiting for more, but his friend’s attention was already on someone else.

“There she is,” Carlo said, staring at a girl drinking wine.

He looked too, but he didn’t see anything special. She was just fair-skinned. He shook his head—Carlo had bad taste in girls.

“The same girl who emptied your GCash?”

“I paid you back already!” Carlo punched his arm. “Move on.”

“Have you moved on?”

Carlo laughed, shook his head, and walked away. When he couldn’t see him anymore, he looked again at the girl. He rubbed his chin. Aside from being fair and young-looking, he didn’t get why Carlo was crazy about her. He was also fair and still looked young for his age. Why didn’t Carlo fall for his charm?

Because you’re carrying the wrong thing, idiot!

“Are you alone?”

He snapped out of his thoughts when a girl sat beside him. Her perfume hit his nose hard. He frowned and looked at her.

What perfume is that? Smells like Downy. Did she bathe in it?

“No, maybe Alone is in another section,” he answered, not really looking at her.

Why were girls sticking to him tonight? Maybe he looked too handsome in his polo and black pants. Even with Carlo around, many women still approached him.

“What?”

“You said you’re looking for Alone, right? That’s not me.”

The girl rolled her eyes, grabbed her phone, stood up, and left her glass.

Later that night, Rey Jhon left the party after saying goodbye to Carlo. It was already past one in the morning, and he wanted to get home since he had class early.

Holding his phone, he opened the camera to snap a photo—but stopped when he saw Gabriella stumbling toward the mansion’s parking lot.

Carlo was really rich. Just by looking at his house and all the expensive things inside—even the kitchenware—you’d know. He still couldn’t believe why someone rich like Carlo even became friends with him.

He put his phone back in his pocket and followed Gabriella. She could barely walk straight, but she still managed to open her car and get inside.

Is she crazy? Don’t tell me she’s driving? Stupid girl!

He rushed toward her car and knocked on the window. Gabriella lowered it and even smiled.

“What do you want?” she asked, opening the door.

She’s the one who drank everything!

“I’ll drive you home—unless you want to die tonight.”

He didn’t know why he said that. The thought just came to him. Maybe he’d figure it out later why he even cared.

He went around to the driver’s side and got in—only to be smacked in the face with a thick book.

“What the hell are you doing in my car? Are you going to rape—”

“Girl, relax. I’m belong to your group. Don’t worry, I don’t like bread. I’m just taking you home before something happens to you. Stop being dramatic!”